You don’t trust anyone with her.
The prince hadn’t done anything wrong as far as he could prove. However, as the man charged with protecting the healers he had the right to question their interactions, didn’t he? Then again, maybe he was overreacting because Indigo was the healer in question. Many people were drawn to her, himself included. What bothered him most was the way she seemed drawn to Yiloch in return. Perhaps in clarifying the role of the healers he could mitigate their contact without offending the prince.
*
By afternoon, his troop was organized and ready for a quick departure. Caplin searched out Siddael, not surprised to find him working with the student healers. Indigo smiled at his approach and he wondered again if his feelings for her were leading him to overreact. Perhaps she was only being polite with the prince as she was with everyone.
“Pardon the interruption, Master Siddael.”
The master healer waved a dismissive hand. “We were finishing up. How can I help you, my lord?”
“We’re departing early tomorrow. Your healers must be ready to move at dawn. The prince requested that you and I ride with him to discuss how healers will be utilized during the fighting.”
“Certainly,” he turned to Indigo. “This will be a different kind of learning opportunity for you, Lady Indigo.”
Caplin shook his head. “There’s no reason for her to ride with us.”
Siddael gave him the firm patient look of a teacher dealing with a stubborn student. “We are in unfriendly territory, Lord Caplin. As she is assigned to me, she goes where I go.”
Caplin looked at Indigo. Her guarded look offered him nothing. “Of course. I forgot about partner assignments. Naturally she will join the group.”
Was he being paranoid? Could it be more than coincidence? For a second he thought he saw the whisper of a smile touch her lips, but he couldn’t be sure.
“We shall prepare. Thank you, Lord Caplin.”
He gave a nod and watched them go, yearning to call Indigo back, but the timing felt wrong. She needed to do her part in making them ready to move on. It would be wrong to pull her away now.
“Is that desire I see in your eyes, Captain?”
He glanced to be sure no healers overheard the comment then turned toward the voice. Eris covered the last few steps with a swagger he would have found offensive from a man. She made it uncomfortably arousing. He stepped back from the heat of her presence and she laughed, her pale amber eyes sparkling playfully.
Dusty blond hair, pulled back in a long braid, hinted at mixed blood, but her features were unmistakably Lyran in their refinement. The resemblance to her brother didn’t detract from her allure. Neither sibling looked particularly feminine or masculine, but struck a pleasing balance somewhere in between. Despite lean musculature, her body retained a very feminine shapeliness.
“No.” He managed to claw his way out of the stupor her manner put him in when she stopped and raised her thin brows in askance. “Lady Indigo is a good friend. I’m concerned about her.”
The brows rose higher, with skepticism this time. “Really?” She held up a hand, stopping his protest on his lips. “I was looking for someone to spar with. Would you care to be that someone?”
“I’d love to,” he lied, trying to hide the unease he felt at the prospect of crossing swords with a woman. “However, I should go see if Prince Yiloch needs help with anything.”
“He needs people to stay out of his way.” Her hand stroked down the hilt of her sword in a manner that broke him into a cool sweat. “Trust me, Captain, I’ve known him since he was a boy.”
Evasion wasn’t going to work with her. Perhaps he should be blunt. “I’m not comfortable sparring with a woman.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
Caplin’s cheeks warmed in response to her sultry smirk. He cleared his throat, struggling for composure. “With a sword, I mean.”
She chuckled. “How do you do it then?” Her smile was teasing.
He laughed, self-conscious. “I seem to be slaying myself with wordplay, perhaps swordplay would be safer.”
Eris grinned, victory flashing in her lovely eyes. “Come with me then, but I warn you, I won’t be playing.”
With a sense of nervous anticipation, Caplin followed. Watching the swing of her hips as she walked was guilty pleasure, though he didn’t think she’d care even if she noticed where his attention was. She retrieved sparring swords from a supply wagon and tossed one to him. In his distraction, he almost missed it. To refocus, he ran through a plethora of fighting stances in his mind as he followed her to a gradually sloped meadow in the trees beyond the supply wagons. In unspoken accord, they walked to the center of the meadow and faced one another. Then she started to move, prowling around him like a hunting cat.
“It’s a shame you’re not interested in men. My brother finds you attractive.”
Struggling not to let her distract him, he tracked her movements and answered with the first thing that came to mind. “Do you play matchmaker for your brother often?”
“Sometimes. I wouldn’t in this case. I’d much rather keep you for myself.”
The suggestive smile that curved her lips made his pulse quicken. He shifted to keep her in his field of vision as she continued her slow circle. “Are you always this blunt?”
“Only when I want something. Does it bother you? A woman speaking her mind so openly.”
She was taunting him now and he shouldn’t let her, but she fascinated him. It was like crossing words with any soldier before a sparring match, only charged with a sexual tension that enhanced the thrill.
“Oddly enough, it doesn’t bother me.”
“Does this?”
She darted in suddenly, swift and agile. It was all he could do to deflect her blade in time. He retaliated instinctively, but pulled his strike at the last second. Taking advantage of his hesitation, she ducked under his weapon and spun, striking a smart blow to his rear with the flat of her blade. Caplin twisted around and scowled at her little smirk, his rear stinging.
“Perhaps you’ll follow through with your next attack,” she jeered.
Without hesitation, she danced in again. He didn’t pull his strike this time. Some of the styles he’d encountered fighting Yiloch were apparent in her technique, but adapted to accommodate her smaller, less powerful build. She fought with speed and precision, leaping nimbly out of range of stronger blows and darting in for quick jabs and swipes. When she had to block a stronger attack full on, he noticed that it slowed her some, but her speed was a drain on his energy and his failed attacks fatigued his arms.
Through the afternoon, they traded victories, gathering the occasional audience from both armies. Caplin thought he glimpsed Indigo among the onlookers at one point, but when he had a chance to look, she was gone. Adran, Hax, and Deryk showed up together and left together a short time later. Another two pairs took up sparring in the open area. A third pair took over their practice swords when they finally quit as dusk was falling.
Eris was flushed and panting. Her broad grin was contagious. Caplin chuckled and wiped sweat from his forehead.
“Come on, we can rinse off in the creek over there.” She pointed away from the camp.
He considered pointing out that a branch of the creek ran closer to camp, but the idea of prolonging their intriguing encounter kept him silent.
“Are you married?” she asked as they walked. Pulling her braid over one shoulder, she began to untie the band that held it.
“Engaged.”
“To the right woman?” The band came loose, and she unwound the braid, turning her long hair into a ponytail held by another band at the top. The hair kinked in tight waves from its time in the braid.
Caplin said nothing. How was he supposed to answer that?
They came over a small rise and he saw the creek ahead. It was wider and deeper here, making it better suited to their purpose, but also quite secluded from the camp. Eris stopped beside th
e creek and turned her back to him.
“Can you undo the other tie? It’s easier if someone else does it.”
He inhaled and was struck by the deeply feminine scent of her. The aroma was almost intoxicating and he breathed in again, his blood heating as he lifted his hands to undo the other band. It released and her hair fell out, still holding some of the shape forced by the band. Not thinking, he ran his fingers through the silky length once, helping it to fall out the rest of the way.
She turned around, her body a warm inviting presence mere inches from him. When had they gotten so close?
Pale eyes gazed up at him, her features shadowed by the fast fading light. He found it distantly amusing that he hadn’t noticed until then that he was several inches taller than her. Her bold demeanor added to her perceived height. She brought a hand up to his face, letting her thumb caress along his cheek as it slid down, slender fingers coming to rest around the back of his neck. It was then that he noticed one of his hands still rested on her shoulder, a lock of her soft hair wound in his fingers.
Her hand applied a gentle pressure against the back of his neck and he gave in, his mouth covering hers in a hungry kiss that she returned in kind. Caplin closed his eyes, tasting her, smelling her, bringing his hand up from her shoulder to cup her head and hold her close. His other hand moved around her waist, seemingly with a mind of its own, and pulled her body into his. The heat in his blood rose to a fever burn, raging through him with desire.
When he released her mouth, she gasped and smiled, her face more flushed than it had been.
“I’ll take that as a no,” she breathed.
It took him a moment to remember what she had asked, if he was engaged to the right woman. Shame burned him then, flaring hotter when Indigo’s face came to mind where Andrea’s should have been. He moved his hands away from Eris.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I…”
He trailed off at the sudden rise of irritation in her eyes. Her lips pressed together in a tight line and she moved back, placed her hands against his chest, and shoved. Caught by surprise, he toppled over backwards and landed full body in the creek. The cold water shocked the breath from his lungs and he inhaled, sucking in liquid. He came up sputtering and coughing to find her bent over on the shore staggering with laughter.
Glowering he climbed up on the bank and reached for her, intending to return the favor. Rather than move out of his reach as he expected, she came forward, throwing her body against his and sending them both into the water. They came up entwined and he met her eyes, the desire in them arousing his own yearning again. He untangled himself and climbed back out of the water.
Eris ducked under once to get her hair out of her face. Then she came back up on shore with him.
“Your fiancé isn’t here, is she?” She asked as she squeezed water out of her hair.
“No, but that doesn’t make it all right.”
“She’ll never know.”
Her playful smile made him want to hit her almost as much as it made him want to kiss her again. “Eris, I find you very attractive, but I’m engaged and I’m in love.”
She met his eyes, her bright gaze probing into him. “I get the feeling you’re talking about two different women when you say those things.”
He ground his teeth. Why had he said it that way? What was it about her that made him want to spill his soul to her, preferably while lying somewhere naked and sated?
“I’m going back to get dry clothes and food. You’re welcome to walk with me if you like.”
Eris shrugged and put her back to him. “I’ll be along shortly.”
Caplin struggled a moment with the deep-rooted need to escort her back to the others. She wasn’t the kind of woman who needed his protection. That was part of what made her so desirable. Finally, he turned away and walked to camp.
He didn’t see Eris again that evening, but he wondered how amused she would be to know he could think of nothing else but the way she moved when she fought. When he entered his tent that night he felt equal parts foolish and justified for pushing her away. Stripping down to a light layer of clothing, he climbed into his makeshift bed. A short time after he dozed off, he woke to someone climbing into the bed with him.
He would have yelled if not for the hand Eris placed over his mouth. He took hold of her slender waist with both hands, intending to push her away. Bare flesh met his fingertips and he hesitated. He could make out her smirk in the faint moonlight that seeped through the thin walls before she removed her hand from his mouth and replaced it with her lips. In the dark, she could be any woman, even the one he wanted, the one with deep indigo eyes.
Rather than push her away, his arms slid around her naked body and pulled her closer.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
For three days, Indigo rode at the heart of the army, close enough to listen to Yiloch’s conversations. Caplin began the trip responding curtly to the prince. When they discussed the healers and Yiloch deferred respectfully to Master Siddael, Caplin relaxed. By noon on the first day, the prince had him engaged in lively stories of many hunts he’d been on in the woods they were passing through.
He was truly a prince; diplomatic, charming, clever, and effective.
Along the way, she kept constant vigil with ascard, staying alert for scouts or ascard users. They captured an imperial patrol on the second day, incorporating it into the army with little resistance. Early on the third morning, she sensed the searching tendril of an adept, but it withdrew too fast for her to track. She shared the information discreetly with Adran since Caplin didn’t seem bothered by her interacting with him. Perhaps he’d noticed the man’s lack of interest in women.
As evening fell on the third day, they crossed a river and set camp. While support units erected tents and pulled supplies off the boats that met them there, she scanned for danger in widening sweeps. She sensed the ascard signature in millions of things—trees, animals, insects, villagers—within seconds and moved on. When she encountered a large group of riders approaching from the north, she narrowed her focus on them. The mounted force, heading their way at speed, had several creators and adepts in the ranks. They would arrive within the hour, at darkfall judging by their pace and the remaining distance.
Alarm brought a cold sweat. She spotted Yiloch overseeing camp arrangements. Ian stood near him, engaged in subdued conversation with a young female adept.
Reaching out with ascard, she touched Ian’s inner aspect and wrapped a tendril into it. A barrier started to go up and she braced to fight it, but then he relaxed, letting her take hold. She drew him with her, masking his connection along the way, hoping he was strong enough to span the distance. When they encountered the approaching force, she split the tendril of ascard, splitting his awareness along with her own to touch on the unique ascard signatures of the many riders in the approaching force, giving him a feel for their numbers. She lingered on the creators and adepts, hoping he could feel their strength as she could.
She backed away then, gently releasing him. Despite her caution, he staggered when his control returned then met her eyes across the way, his face ghastly pale. He pushed the female adept to one side and rushed to Yiloch, grabbing the prince’s arm. She could see the prince’s expression darkening as Ian spoke to him.
He ordered Caithin troops and healers to the back of the camp behind a defensive line of Lyran soldiers. He didn’t want them seen to avoid tipping the emperor off to Caithin’s involvement before the naval attack. While he prepared a host to face them, she tracked the riders.
When Yiloch rode to the head of the host and led them out to meet the attack, she retreated with the other healers to wait for injured to trickle in. Dread formed a lump in her gut. With dark falling, it would be impossible to see what was going on in the field, so she reinforced her link to him and picked at her fingernails.
“Don’t fret.” Siddael placed a hand on her shoulder. “Thanks to that young creator of his, Prince Yiloch will
be ready for them.”
“I hope so.”
The approach of the enemy force sounded through the night like a barrage of drums, growing louder and louder. As the sound pressure reached its peak, ground shaking with pounding hooves, it rolled to a stop. Darting her ability among the ascard users in the opposing force, she could sense four creators moving together in the center with adepts split out in pairs throughout. Several minutes passed in near silence, the occasional snort and stomp of horses the loudest sound. Then a war cry sundered the night.
Seconds later, steel clashed. Voices cried out in anger and pain. When the first injured came to them she found that work kept her calm. Focusing on the needs of patients made it possible to brace against the brutality of their injuries.
She continued to track Yiloch through the link and scan those around him while she worked. A pattern began to emerge on the battlefield. Adepts and soldiers were systematically isolating Yiloch from his soldiers, using illusion, deception, and precise attacks to clear a path for the four creators and one soldier now closing on him.
She stopped and stared out toward the battlefield. Reaching out around Yiloch, she searched for his captains or anyone who might be about to come to his aid. There was no one close. The enemy had isolated him.
“Healer Indigo, we’ve work to do.” Siddael called as he knelt beside a moaning soldier whose bicep lay split open by a blade.
Injured horses and horses of injured riders were tethered nearby. Yiloch’s mount, the dappled stallion he called Tantrum, was among them. Yiloch was on foot. Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out sounds of battle. She could feel the creators closing on him. He couldn’t hope to face all four of them alone. Did they mean to kill or capture?
She walked to the horse line, checking for an uninjured animal and grabbed the reins on a fleet-looking bay. As she drew the horse away from the line, her sense of Yiloch disappeared. All uncertainty vanished and she swung up, kicking the animal to a gallop.
Dissident (Forbidden Things Book 1) Page 28
